Crime Story
by Mathilde Egyed
Summary: Another time. Another place. But something cannot change...
1. Chapter 1

Hi,

I'm here again with a special story. This time, I took our favorite characters to a different place and time. I think the title will tell everything that will make you read the story.

http://kepfeltoltes.hu/070702/crimestorymswww.kepfeltoltes.hu.jpg

I hope you'll like it and will have great time, and won't deny a review.

Have a nice time!

Mathilde Egyed

I'm sure that you know, but I can't left it out: I don't own the original TLW characters, but the new ones are the product of my imagination.

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Chapter 1

It was a dark, hot and sultry late summer night. The autumn slowly set into the sleepy little town in Texas with warm rain, and made the normally cheery streets alarmingly gloomy.

This sleepy little town haven't seen good days for a long time, it was plagued by a horrible dream.

"The red lipstick killer waits for new victim. The police is helpless."

Charlotte Dunn automatically swept over the newspaper as she stepped out of the non-stop shop. She didn't like the bad news and she just skipped the article about this brutal serial killer. She already heard more about this case than she liked to. In the university, between friends, everyone could speak only about that madman, who kidnapped young girls and who knows what did done to them, before they were murdered. All of the victims' lips were painted to red when the police found them. But nobody knew more. Charlotte suppressed a satiric thought about the abilities of the police officers, but it wasn't a hard job, when she thought about the fate of those poor girls and their families.

She walked on the short trip between the non-stop shop and her flat with confident steps in spite of the darkness. She always used that shortcut, through the alleys and the parking lot of the supermarket. Her every step touched the same spot on the asphalt as the night before and the night before that. She knew every smaller or bigger hole and gap, the sometimes tasteless, sometimes funny graffities in one word nothing disturbed her in the reading except of the bad public lighting, but she was accustomed to that.

But it changed from one minute to the other, when hardly leaving the parking lot a big powerful arm grabbed her from behind and brought her body into one of the narrow alleys. The girl cried out frightened and tried to free herself with struggling. She lost her purse and the paper too but she was far from success. The attacker suddenly throw her back, she felt a sudden pain in the back of her head, and the little light she could see on the street disappeared from her sight…


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Detective Richard R. Redgrave angrily slammed his car's door. The not- too- good-,

but –not- too- bad vehicle was accustomed to this kind of treatment and didn't feel offended by the cold Chinese food that streamed out of the take-out box because of the sudden drop onto the carpet of the police vehicle. The carpet already bore the stains of pizza that had been dropped on the floor. But detective Redgrave didn't even notice it, because his thoughts were on the cause of his hurry.

It was another death report: the Lipstick Killer again. The third in one month. He mentally prepared himself for the sight of another tortured, maimed, (but cleaned) corpse , lips painted vividly with red lipstick. Red as blood…Who could have known that the young, energetic detective would be faced with such a big challenge in this usually nerve-wrackingly boring place…?

But why a serial killer? His stomach would have turned upside down, if it had had any contact with food in the last 24 hours. But it had not. He glanced back at his dinner, when his cellphone rang.

"Redgrave," he murmured, not paying attention to the calling number.

"Hi ,Richard? What's new?"

"Ned, how many times do I have to tell you to stop using that old radio to track down police messages? What kind of reporter are you?"

This malicious comment was addressed to no one other than the most well-known reporter of the local media, Ned Malone. Although the police handled him as a bad element, Richard couldn't turn his back on the man he had once played in the sand with.

"Very funny. Is this the latest cop joke? Anyway, I've thrown that thing out ages ago, because you weren't able to repair it." Richard wordlessly held his clear blue eyes to the sky.

"Veronica was called in, too."

"I see. And you thought that if the family was pulled apart, why shouldn't you make some phone call and get to know about the others?"

" Something like that. But seriously, do you know anything?"

"If only I knew!" He sighed into the phone and stopped his car. "I must go now…"

"OK. You don't have to promise that you'll call me back. I will." The detective smiled tiredly and was about to turn off the 'phone, when he heard his name. "Richard!"

"Yes?"

"Are you all right?"

"I'm still alive."

"You know, in my fridge I can always find a few beers…"

Good old Ned, he was always a little bit more than a simple reporter.

"Thanks. I'll remember it. Good night!"

"Good night! Or something like that."

Climbing out of the car, he was greeted with the familiar sight of the Ford Crown Victorias' bumper lights strobing, the overhead lights rotating, and making the waxed cars glisten in the last light of evening. An ambulance stood next to them, and the area behind was separated by yellow band of crime scene tape.

Seeing the blonde beauty, who wore a simple black trouser suit with a light blue blouse, he knew where to start.

"Veronica!"

The woman turned back to him, and pulling on her latex crime scene gloves, she greeted him back. "Hi Richard!"

"What can you tell me?"

"Nothing yet. I arrived just a few minutes ago. What's this hurry?"

"Nothing. I've just finished a dialogue with a husband, who missed his wife badly, and I thought we should bring this to an end shortly, so I can let her get back to him."

"I've told Ned to leave you alone, but it's like speaking to the wall." Veronica said, irritated. "I know only that our subject attacked a girl, but an officer on patrol disturbed him."

"How do you know it's him? It can easily be a simple robbery."

"From this." The woman squatted on her heels and with a tiny tool, she scratched some red material into a clean evidence bag.

"At first sight it's "Red Dream", but the laboratory will be able to tell more."

She didn't have to say more in order to convince Richard. This sick thing again with the lipstick…

"Where is the girl?"

"She's in the ambulance. If I were you, I would start with the officer. There, that blonde girl."

Richard looked back and found a medium high blonde girl, wearing a tan Sheriff's Department uniform, who was speaking to another officer. He nodded to Veronica and made his way to the officer.

"Detective Redgrave," he said, showing his identification as he came closer.

"Deputy Nicole Finnegan, sir."

"Deputy Finnegan, did you discover the crime?"

"Yes, sir."

"Tell me, what happened!"

"Yes sir. At 6:30, I started my patrol. I was circling nearby at 9:15, when I heard a scream."

"How could you hear it from the car?"

"The window was down, and the night was silent. It had stopped raining, too."

"Carry on!"

"I reported on my radio before I stepped out of the car and followed the noise, when I noticed a purse and a newspaper on the ground before the entrance of one of the alleys. I pulled out my weapon and turned into the narrow street. I saw a figure with his back to me standing before an unconcious woman, who was lying on the ground. I shouted at him, when he suddenly turned, pushed me into the wall, and disappeared. When I stood up again, he was gone. I examined the victim, and called the ambulance, when I found out she was alive."

"Why didn't you shoot?"

"He moved suddenly. It was dark, and I wasn't sure I wouldn't hit the victim or some bystander out on the street. ."

"Then why did you draw your weapon?"

" I thought about robbery or rape, and thought that only the sight of the gun would be enough."

"How can you describe him?"

"I can't say much. He was average height, wore dark clothes, and a mask."

"Are you sure it was a man and not a woman?"

"Unfortunately,no."

"Did he have a weapon?"

"Well," she hesitated, and tried to remember. "I'm not sure, but I remember seeing something shiny, like a knife."

"How much time was there between you shouting at him and him attacking you?"

"A few seconds."

"Can it be that in this time he took the knife and ran?"

" He'd have been really skillful to do that without hurting anybody."

"How did he push you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Did he touch you with his hands, or …"

"His right hand was on my left shoulder, exactly here…" She started to touch the spot on her shoulder, when the detective grabbed her. He stepped closer, noticing a little dark stain on the shoulder of the uniform."

"Deputy," he told her "I need your uniform. "


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Veronica Malone felt herself being in a rare amiable position. They had the first evidence in this case and maybe they'd have some use of it. The only problem was that in spite of having searched though the whole dirty,smelling , alley,the most important corpus delicti wasn't her foundation. Richard proudly announced the product of his investigation as the deputy was helped to change by the others at the hospital. She had had a friend bring a spare uniform blouse from home, and after her shoulder had been checked for any injury, she was putting on the new blouse behind a screen. The blood on her blouse hadn't been her own.

"Poor girl." Sighed Veronica

"Not girls?"

"I thought about the deputy. I have seen you questioning her. You're tough and those annoying questions of yours…"

"I have my intentions. I must be sure, that…-"Richard started to explain himself.

"Ok. I believe it. But I'm truly happy, that I'm not your victim."

"Now that you mentioned, where is the girl?"

"Still in the ambulance . But let me work! Although I have no faith in this rubbish of a tip." She flinched and turned away.

Redgrave left her with a half smile. Below the light of the police and ambulance cars a few men wearing red jackets stood around somebody. He automatically forced his way through them and without glancing at her, he showed his identification.

"Detective Redgrave. I've been told you're the victim."

Charlotte's head was still hurting. Although the doctor told her that it would disappear

soon, she considered that statement as a sick joke at the moment. She had woken a few minutes earlier in an ambulance, where she was immediately examined. They were checking the little bump on her head, when she heard a deep male voice speaking to her in a not too kindly way.

"Fortunately not a victim of murder," came the sudden and sarcastic reply from her.

Hearing the unusual answer, Richard looked up and crashed into a pair of big brown

eyes. The girl was nice. Not his kind of woman, but a pretty one. She had long brown hair, that she pushed to one side because of the medical examination, and a heart -shaped face. But those chocolate eyes were what demanded his attention the most.

Charlotte waited for another monotone technical question as she glanced up, only to be

taken aback by the handsome dark haired and clearly blue eyed man. The girl didn't know why, but she had to force herself not to blush.

After the everlasting silent moment Richard found his voice first.

"Fortunately." Than amused by his soft tone, he cleared his throat and continued in a more official way. "May I ask for your name?"

"Charlotte. Charlotte P. Dunn."

"Your age?"

"22, and yours?"

Richard looked up from his notes, which made the girl blush, and she added:

"Sorry. It just slipped out. I… I'm not accustomed to this."

The man had a hard job not to smile, but behind the blank expression he was smiling, for a very long time.

"Doesn't matter. Let's jump through the data, the colleagues will ask them anyway.

Can you tell me what had happened here tonight?"

"I'm afraid I can't tell you much. I was coming home on my usual way, when suddenly

a man grabbed me from behind. I tried to free myself, but I wasn't successful, because I hit my head. The next thing I remember was that the doctor was patching me up."

"Have you seen the face of your attacker?"

The girl sighed and shook her head, but a sudden pain went trough it and she hissed.

"Do you have any other injuries? I mean… besides your head."

"Luckily, no. Why do you ask ? And why am I being questioned by a detective? And…"

In this moment the pieces came together. The article, and her attack. Can it be, that there was a connection? "Can it be, that ….that madman, who?" She echoed her thoughts, frightened.

The detective hardly could barely stand not to embrace the slightly shaking girl in front of him. It was a miracle that she wasn't in shock, and he wouldn't been surprised by a hysteria attack, but the girl didn't do anything, just stared at him wordlessly.

"You don't have to be afraid, thanks to Deputy Finnegan."

"Can…Can I go home?"

"As soon as you data are signed up and the doctor says yes. I promise it won't last long. Shall we inform somebody to fetch you?"

"My family lives in another country, my roommate is abroad. I'm alone for about a month. But I don't live far, I can go home alone."

"We'll see." Finished the conversation and seeing the piercing gaze of the doctor, he turned to leave, when he added: "And, Miss Dunn." He waited until she looked at him again. "The answer to your question is 28. "


	4. Chapter 4

It seems that I won't be able to post new chapters in the next few days. Hope you won't forget the story. I'l be back as soon as I can.

Until then, you can write me many many messages and reviews :DDD , because I didn't get any :::((((( and I'm not sure it's worth to continue.

Let's start...

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Chapter 4

Circa an hour later Charlotte Dunn managed to free herself from the tide of

questions and it took another hearing through the doctor, who gave her some medicines and wise advice. All her wished was a hot bath and her own bed. Seeing these precious goals in front of her eyes, she was about to leave, when a strong male voice hindered her.

"Where are you going, Miss Dunn?"

The girl turned with a sighed she couldn't and didn't wanted to hide.

"I thought I'm allowed to go home, Detective Redgrave."

"Of course." He came closer. "But not alone"

"Look, I've already told you…"

"I'm perfectly aware of that, but it's on my way. I thought maybe I can give you a ride."

"You even don't know where I live." She stated, but after the man pulled out of his pocket his notes, she knew she lost that battle. "I give up. Where's your car?"

After getting rid of his triumphant smile Richard led the girl to his car, opened the door for her and after his safety belt was fastened, they left.

The ride wasn't longer than 5 minutes and shortly after they found themselves in front of Charlotte's door. She was about to get out, when she didn't know why, but asked him.

"Do you want to come in for coffee or tea? In exchange for the ride."

Richard wasn't prepared for the offer, but he didn't think of turning it down. After turning off the engine, they made their way to the house, and the whole time Charlotte was questioning herself: what she is doing at the moment. She called a foreign man into her flat. A real detective. But she wasn't ready to be alone again, and although it seemed weird, she felt herself surprisingly safe with the slightly arrogant, but handsome man.

"Make yourself feel at home. I'll make coffee for you."

"You don't drink?"

"I prefer tea at the moment."

The man curled his lips into a thin smile then went into the cute, friendly living room. A cream colored comfortable sofa, family portraits on the shelves, newspapers and magazines on the floor, and the small table. Everything was calm and friendly. He didn't have to wait too long until Charlotte appeared with two mugs and sat next to him onto the sofa, pulling her feet under herself. After a few minutes of embarrassing silence, Richard cleared his throat.

"And what do you learn?"

"So there is something that notepad doesn't know!" She looked up behind her mug.

"Well, not always" He answered as he slightly loosened his tie.

"To sing. Do you like Opera?"

"I'm not so good at it, but I like many kinds of music. Unfortunately, I'm at a loss for any musical talent."

Another silent minute came, but this time it was Charlotte who couldn't stand it anymore.

"Please, forgive me. It's not like me… I mean I'm not the kind of girl, who wordlessly sit, and …who call up foreigners in the middle of the night, but…" She let out a big breath to continue without tears. "But… this whole thing…it's like…and I didn't want to be alone… I'm sorry…"

But it was too late. The tears had already started to flow down her face. The stress, the shock and the tiredness broke out on her and there wasn't any self-control left to hold them back. She buried her face in her hands, not wanting to see the alarmed face of the man. But then, she felt as ever so slowly two powerful arms touching her, and she heard comforting words. Richard Redgrave without second thoughts embraced and pulled her to him the shaking girl. Not even disturbed by one of the most important rules, which told not to get involved with a victim, he slowly stroked her hair and with soft words calmed Charlotte. It didn't take long for her to fell asleep.

For a few minutes Richard thought about what to do, then yawned and leaned back on the sofa. Still holding the sleeping brown haired girl, he covered them with a nearby blanket and closed his eyes to sleep.

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Please review...


	5. Chapter 5

Hi,

Hope, you're ancsiously waiting for the next chapters.

Well, I post it now. Wish you a great time!

Mathilde

Please review!!!! I'm starting to think that noone likes the story... :(((((

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Chapter 5

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

A desperate and incredibly long scream shook the walls of Charlotte's kitchen. The nearly glass-breaking noise came from no other than Charlotte Dunn herself, who after waking still with half closed eyes started to go to have some breakfast, but bumped into the open door of her refrigerator.

The shriek not only had a bad effect on the glasses, but on the breakfast -searching Richard Redgrave, too, who immediately dropped the eggs he wanted to use for an omelette. When he looked up, the girl was silent again, but recognizing her foolish act was red and hardly could breath, not to mention speaking.

"You…Detective I…I thought…After last night…" The sentences just didn't want to jump out from her lips on their own, and giving it up, she dropped herself into one of the kitchen chairs.

Richard would never been a good detective, if he didn't recognize immediately what had just happened. It was not surprising , that after a violent crime, the victim might react this way when she found a stranger in her kitchen the next morning. She could still be in shock, or maybe she didn't remember anything. He closed the fridge, slowly stepped closer, and sat next to her.

"Are you all right?" he asked as softly as a man could in the early hours.

"Thanks, better." She looked up. "Please forgive me…"

"It's my fault," interrupted the man, and they managed to say the same thing at the same time. The strangeness of the situation finally made both of them smile.

"How is it that you're still here?' Charlotte asked again, seriously..

"Don't you remember last light?"

Suddenly, alarm struck Charlotte. Her face paled, and something gripped her stomach inside. What had happened?

"Well, I invited you for a cup of tea, than we started to talk, then…I..

"Then you fell asleep and I stayed. Hope you don't mind.

It was as bright as sunlight, that a huge stone was rolled from her heart. She found herself in an awkward situation for the second time this morning and it wasn't even seven.

"Shall I make breakfast?" She offered.

"Oh, no, thanks. I was on this project when" He looked at the floor, and the eggs. "a little accident happened." And he grimaced.

Due to the irony of fate they wanted to clean it up in the same time and it resulted that they managed to bump their heads together. There they were, sitting on the black-and-white kitchen floor. Charlotte Dunn and Detective Redgrave held their heads and laughed over the broken eggs. They laughed at the situation, at their tension, and they didn't know what more. After a few minutes, Richard became ruled by a strange feeling and like he acted beyond recognition, he slowly bent over the girl. The following kiss was inevitable and he could only he hope that a slap on his face wouldn't be his reward. But Charlotte's intentions were far from slapping him; moreover, she kissed him back!

The parting was slow and before Richard could say a single word, she suddenly jumped up.

"I think I need to shower," she said, and in the next moment she had disappeared.

Richard started at her for a time. He felt like he was a teenager again, not a nearly 30-year-old experienced man on his own. Pitying himself, he shook his head and started to clean up the mess in order to make that omelette, he thought he was longing for…

to be continued...


	6. Chapter 6

I got my first review!!!!

Santa crux, you gave my hope back! Thank you for the kind remark. I'll try to gorw up to your praises:) :D You really made my day!! Thank you, thank you, thank you:DDD

Let's continue it!

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Chapter 6

The huge desk of Sheriff Theodoras T. Tribune was more crowded with papers than ever. His phone was ringing without a break, and he nearly screamed into the receiver when his blonde secretary shyly came in.

"What?!" He barked.

"Sir, Detective Redgrave has arrived."

The Man barked once again, this time into the phone, then slammed it down , and immediately bringing a calm expression onto his face, signed to the woman to show the detective in.

Richard was far from calm, as he stepped into the office. He had never been the favorite of his boss, and now the silence made him more alarmed than any shout or curse.

"Good morning, Detective!"

"Sir."

"What time do you need to be found? I've been searching for you for an hour!"

"Sorry, sir" He was trying to hold himself back and answered like he wasn't pissed from his tone. "I was working..."

"I don't want to know where you have been. It isn't why I called you here," he stated. Not waiting for an answer, he stood, and stepped before the other man. "How many murders have happened so far in this month??

"Two, sir."

"And yesterday evening?"

"Only an attempt."

"It doesn't matter to the press or to the citizens. And what do you know about the perpetrator?" When he didn't get an immediate reply, he turned and eyeing him, he hissed., "Well?"

"Not too much."

"NOTHING! Absolutely nothing!"

"Last night…"

"I don't care. I want answers. I won't wait for them any more."

"What do you mean?" Richard asked as he drew his eyebrows together.

"We'll set up a crisis team." The sheriff stated with a triumphant expression.

"But, sir…"

"I know what you want to tell me, but it's my decision. Can you see that damned phone on my desk? It hasn't stopped ringing the whole morning. Do you know who's been calling me?"

"The press,?" he asked, with eyes rolling and a bored sigh.

"The press, the prosecutor's department, the major from the DPS, the damned FBI!!!" Tribune cried. "I've made the decision. The team will stand up shortly. I want all the papers and materials collected in one hour. I'm finished, for now."

Richard stormed out of the office with red face and clenched jaws, slamming the door behind him so hard that Cecile, the secretary, could swear that the wall over the entrance of their boss's office cracked…

tbc.

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I'w still waiting for your opinion... :) 


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

The police station was crowded, so Richard had a harder job than usual to collect the materials of the case together. The wonderful the day started did't alleviate the terrible feelings he felt over his situation at the moment. It wasn't enough that he was stripped from his case, but he had to deal with a lot of new faces from now. But he had to admit, a crisis team was the only useful idea that his boss ever had. These morose thoughts were disturbed by the sight through the window door of the neighboring office. There She was. She. Charlotte, with a young deputy, who wrote down her evidence. Richard would like to kick himself because of his earlier acts, but he couldn't deny that he had enjoyed that kiss. He was angry because it seemed like he was using her, but he didn't know why he couldn't resist her. _She even wasn't his type_!, he thought. He liked blonde women with long legs, not the short, dark haired girls. Not those, whose hair smelled even in the early morning hours, like jasmine, and whose faces shined after a hot shower with a lovely shade of pink. The ones, who were more attractive in a simple long, light pink skirt, and a slightly décolleté white top, than any…

"Go to hell, Avery!"

He was stopped, when the voice of the deputy from the previous night disturbed him. She was shouting at one of he colleagues. He knew that man. And didn't like him. He was an arrogant, disgusting cop, but one of the best. The one who made the crime solving statistics jump. Avery Burton.

"Calm down, honey! You don't have to bite!"

It was clear that he had again started his little plays with the women around him, but this time he had chosen his victim badly. Richard wasn't up to another fight, so he came in.

"Deputy Finnegan!"

The girl weighed her opposite with her eyes one last time, before she obeyed the call.

"Yes, sir."

"In an hour there'll be a meeting. A crisis team will stand up. Inform Professor Challenger in the laboratory and ask him to collect his reports. And bring me back the new ones from last night."

"Yes, sir" She was about to start, when he continued.

"And Deputy…"

"Yes, sir?" She turned again.

"I also need your excellent report."

It was a hard job on Richard's part not to smile, when the girl's face become bright with pride. Such a naivety, such strength… He was amused as she went on her way with her head held high.

Detective Redgrave wanted to arrive first into the conference room, but to his surprise he was overtaken. He found his boss, T.T. Tribune, with a foreign man speaking.

"Ah, Detective Redgrave, please let me introduce your new colleague, Special Agent J. R. Roxton."

The tall, brown haired agent offered his hand with a friendly expression and added,

"In my opinion, I'll be a silent observer, considering your work on profiling. I've read them, and I know who I'm working with."

As hard as Richard wanted to hate him, he simply couldn't. He answered calmly,

moreover politely, "Unfortunately, my knowledge is only useful when there's any trace."

"You'll search for them!!" The sheriff interrupted, not caring if Roxton had any other reply. "Whose presence shall we expect?"

"Professor Challenger from the laboratory will analyze the examinations and the results of the autopsies. Veronica Malone from CSI, and Deputy Finnegan, who is our only witness from last night."

"Any other?'

"We'll need someone who deals with the press. This case has caused big trouble here," the special agent said. "Do you know anyone reliable?"

"There's that journalist, that Malone," said Tribune with disgust. "Redgrave knows him."

"Yes, I do."

"He'll do. Call him! Others?"

"That's all, sir."

"I must correct you!"

All the three men turned to stare at the slim women standing in the door. Her discreet make up made the others concentrate on the green sparkling of her eyes and the elegant line of her lips. She wore a perfect suit, with narrow dark skirt, that emphasized her hourglass shape. Her black, curly hair was held back on the back of her head, with a simple pin.

"Marguerite! What are you doing here?" Tribune cried.

"Come on, Theo, you didn't believe that I'd stay out of the play!" She came closer with steps reminding them of a great predator's.

"She won't take part in the investigation, will she?" Roxton asked in mocking style.

The woman held her head high, laid her stylish briefcase on the nearby table, and with a self confident expression asked.

"And who are you?'

The sheriff cleared his throat.

"Special agent J. R. Roxton, she's Marguerite Krux from the public prosecutor's department. You and the detective know each other."

"Of course, Richard." She smiled briefly at the detective, who answered with a short, "Marguerite". Knowing the lady well, he stayed quiet, and chose the tactic of waiting her out.

"F.B.I.! I should have known." She observed him with a bored expression. "But I can't let the good citizens be living in fright, because a madman is killing young women around here. And be happy it's me and not the major, who came."

With that, considering the argument finished, she sat down, took her documents from her briefcase, and started to organize them. When after a time still nobody spoke, she looked up and asked:

"When shall; we start ?

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Did you liked the "new" characters:)))9


	8. Chapter 8

Hi!

I know it wasn't nice from me, not to update my story so far on thi site. At first, I didnt't want to finish it, because of the lack of interest and reviews.

Thanks to some wonderful man on TLW, I managed and finished it.

So I present it all in one big part.

Enjoy it!

Mathilde

Chapter 8

"Hm-hm" Richard Redgrave cleared his throat and the room became quiet. "Thank you for coming. I'll be short and I'll try to emphasize the most important things we have to know in this case. The details, you'll get in written form in the next 24 hours. But before I start the summarization of this case, I have to introduce all the members and their status in this crisis team."

Richard spoke with self confidence like it wasn't his first crisis conference, but at least the hundredth.

"Lets start here." He motioned on the right side of the long table. "Professor George Edward Challenger, the first man of the laboratory, and our pathologist.

The red haired slightly disordered older man drew himself up in knowledge of his importance and greeted the others with a nod.

"Deputy Nicole Finnegan, our only eyewitness, who stopped the last attempt. And if everything goes right , her uniform will give us a good trace. Am I right, Veronica?"

" Precisely, Richard" agreed the blond woman.

"Mrs. Veronica Malone, the leader of the CSI team. She was there in every case" Continued Richard. " Next is a new, but not foreign, face, Edward T. Malone, our press assistant."

Ned nodded and Richard went on.

"I suspect I don't have to introduce T. T. Tribune, Sheriff. The lady next to him is Miss Marguerite Kruex from the public prosecutor's department."  
Marguerite accepted her introduction with the manner of a queen, and the detective could finish his speech.

"And at last, the gentleman next to me is Special Agent John R. Roxton from the F.B.I.

Hearing these last worlds some of the faces showed amusement, but they quickly forgot it, as Richard started to describe the case.

"As you see, it's not an everyday case we have to solve now. That's why I simply jumped into the middle. In one month, there were two murders and one attempt. Young, single ladies about twelve years old disappeared and after some days, only their dead bodies were found. I don't want to speak instead of the professor or Veronica, so I won't detail it now, but we found on every corpse the traces of torture: burned and pricked wounds, and sexual violation." Richard let out his breath and got a new one. "Our man uses cruel methods. The press's already named him, 'red lipstick killer', because every victim's lips were painted with red lipstick. We found no trace of fingerprints, DNA, so he made a good cleanup. He is professional, he knows what he's doing. In our opinion he's around 30, and married, or at least once he was. He's learned and has a very strong stomach.  
"And now I ask the professor to introduce us to his examinations and results. "

The professor put in operation the projector and with incredible detail, started to analyse the pictures of the corpses, and the result of his autopsies. At the end of the more then 2 hours long performance, one half of the audience was fighting with illness, while the other, the professional ones, wanted to faint.

"Summarizing this, our first DNA trace came yesterday evening. My team is still working on it, and in hours there can be answers." finished Challenger after he switched on the light, then took his earlier place at the table.

"Thank you, Professor." Richard stood again. "The other report will arrive soon. If you have any questions about them, Mrs Malone can answer them, surely."

"What do we know about the lipstick?" Marguerite asked.

"In the three places of act, we found three kinds of lipstick." Veronica leaned forward as she answered. "All were from the most popular types; they're well known, widely used, cheap. Practically, you can find them everywhere and every time. It's impossible to detect, where they were from," she stated as she nearly broke her pencil because of the anger she felt. Maybe she couldn't get used to this kind of job…

"If we have no other questions, we should start to rearrange this place with the required equipment. This will be from now on be the main office of the crisis team. The machines will be here shortly. Until then, we should take a break."

The team slowly stood to let their limbs straighten, and Richard used this moment to discretely leave…

Chapter 9

Charlotte Dunn was spending her third hour at the station. She was made to wait continuously by the man who couldn't find the documents which were really important for her to see. But the coffee machine at the end of the main corridor made a little sunshine in her dark mood. She was reaching out to the paper cup, when a low voice near to her ears called.

"I won't offer to taste it. It's damned bad."

Suddenly, a strange feeling got a hold on her. She didn't know for sure what it was, but she felt frighten and alarmed a little. Maybe she still wasn't all right. Then she turned and found a not too handsome, but far from ugly man in front of her, who tried to flash a kind smile at her. Of course, that venture wasn't successful, because of feelings mentioned above.

"Thank you for the advice, but it's already poured out. It's worth a try, at least."

She answered shortly and started to go away when the man touching her arm held her back. It unconsciously startled Charlotte. She truly needed some sleep. It seemed like since yesterday evening she got easily alarmed by strangers. But not Richard, of course. But somehow, she couldn't think of him as a stranger.

"My name is Avery Burton. If I can do anything for you, just call me," he said reassuringly, smiling again, charmingly.

" First, you could let her go."

The sentence was more like a command than a request from Detective Redgrave. Let's say a very hard looking detective, who clearly couldn't stand Burton's little flirtations. The man didn't dare to risk any more, so he barely nodded farewell and left without a word.  
For a while there was a silence between a confused Charlotte and an angry Richard. The latter watched the back of the leaving man and he was watched by the girl.

"I see you weren't bored," Richard said bitterly and with that he broke the silence.

"I don't remember ever be waiting as much as I did today."

"Oh," he said ,clearly thinking through things, himself. "It must be my fault."

"What do you mean?" Charlotte nearly coughed on her coffee.

"I asked my collegues to make you stay." He turned to the girl eventually.

"And why, if I'm allowed to ask?"

"I thought maybe I can bring you home if I make an early finish, but I'm afraid it's impossible. The crisis team is only going continue to work, and I have only a few minutes of break."

Charlotte didn't know how to react. She was excited because of the offer and disappointed in the delay at the same time. She chose not to make a fool of herself and remained silent.

"But maybe," Richard continued. " Maybe I can drop in this evening. Only if I don't disturb anything. In order to check on you." He finished his speech nearly unconfidently.

Charlotte's eyes suddenly twinkled and with a shy half smile she answered from behind her paper cup.

"Just to be sure that I'm safe, Detective."

Chapter 10

As Richard and Charlotte talked in the corridor, the arranging of the conference room began and the other members of the team were driven out. Miss Marguerite Krux was silently examining her new documents, when someone's shadow stole the light from her and she looked up.

"Special Agent Roxton." She identified the man in front of her.

"Miss Krux." The man nodded..

"What can I do for you?," the woman asked with a tired sigh that, without a doubt, expressed that she wasn't pleased with his disturbing her..

"Are you reading something interesting?" The man in the dark suit sat beside her elegantly.

"As you can see, I'm working on the case," she answered and turned a page.

"Can you tell me…" started the man in his most charming manner. "What inspired a beautiful young woman like you to be possessed by a job like this, in justice?

Marguerite let a sarcastic half smile curl on her lips before she carelessly threw her reply at him.

"If I said that three little ones at home were the cause, what would you answer?"

Although she didn't looked up to see, from his mood she could feel how shocked he became for a moment. Marguerite was smiling inside. "How typical," she thought.

"Then my answer would be, that it must be good to have such a beautiful and successful mother like you."

As Roxton was expecting, his comment wasn't left without reaction. The woman looked up at long last and he could detect a little surprise in her emerald green eyes.

"Good that I don't say such things, then."

"Good, indeed." The man smiled. "As I can see, we aren't needed for a while. I've seen a little restaurant on my way here. Can I invite you for lunch?"

That indescribable light suddenly died out of the woman's eyes, and the desire to read became stronger than ever before.

"Look, Special Agent..."

"Call me John," he interrupted.

"Special Agent Roxton" She held her ground stubbornly. "I'm here for the representation of the district attorney's department. You're from the FBI. This case is work, and nothing else. In one week's time, you'll be in another city, maybe another state, and will call for lunch a policewoman, a detective, a pathologist, or who knows what. Please, spare your energy and time for those occasions. And now if you'll pardon me..." She stood up. "I think I'll go to lunch, and in the meantime, I'll read these materials through. Good bye!"

And with that, she disappeared.

Special Agent John R. Roxton was not the type of man whose invitations were often refused. He couldn't remember the last time it had happened, if it had ever even happened. What he thought and felt, he couldn't define, because he was new to this situation. But in one thing, he was sure. He'd not have lunch alone. And Roxton always was a stubborn man.

Chapter 11

Charlotte hurried to her door, excited,, but before opening it, she stopped and quickly glanced into the mirror hanging in the hall. Judging the scenario acceptable, after letting out a big breath, she opened the door at last.  
Detective Richard Redgrave's eyes slowly took in the sight. Not the stylish light-yellow sports top and trousers, or the simple pony-tail, but the light pink of her cheeks caught his attention.

"Good evening! Is everything all right?" he asked after a moment.

"Good evening! Yes, thank you. But why do you ask ?", she answered, surprised.

"It must be because of my job, but you opened the door a little late and it seems that you're breathing quickly."

Charlotte couldn't do anything but become more red than before, if it was even possible.

"I was in the bathroom, and hurried not to make you wait too long."

Her explanation was rewarded with a simple nod of his head, then, when he was about to say something, she suddenly asked.

"Don't you want to come in? I mean, I was about to make some dinner, and if you're not too tired, maybe you could join me."

If he ever considered the thought of refusal, he would forget it surely after the sound of his stomach rumbling. With a charming smile, he accepted the invitation and stepped in.  
s  
„You can wait in the dining room, until I'm ready," she offered, but the man followed her silently to the kitchen.

"I know my actions this morning are not a persuading reason, but can I help you?"

"Oh, no. Thanks." She turned away to cover her excitement as she was reminded. "Do you like macaroni?"

"Yes"

"It's a good thing for you, because there's hardly any other meal I can do without serious consequences." She smiled as she opened the fridge.

"I would eat anything that doesn't come from a paper bag." He leaned on the kitcken table and watched her working.

"Did you have a long day?"

"You can say."

"But successful, I'm sure."

"Unfortunately not." He sighed. "That's the most irritating. We had a power cut for half a day."

The pair shortly get into a light, boundless conversation. It was like they knew each other for a thousand years. They ate dinner without speaking a word about the murders. The other part of the evening they spent on Charlotte's sofa in the company of a bottle of good red wine. The mood become more personal, and they become very close.

"You're brave." Richard stated.

"Why do you think that?" The girl blushed, but he was accustomed to it, moreover he loved watching her like this, and it inspired him to go further.

"Well, I don't see a well-built boyfriend or ex boyfriend guarding your door in spite of what happened."

"It doesn't have anything to do with my courage." She sipped again from her glass.

"Than why?"

"Is this the way detectives usually inquire after the personal life of a girl? Charlotte smiled lazily.

"Only in exceptional cases." He smiled back charmingly. "Just don't say, that there isn't any true admirer of yours around who would gladly accept the role of a body guard."

"I can't do it." She laughed maybe harder than she used to, thanks to the blessed effect of the alcohol. "No. I haven't got anybody. Not here or in the other parts of the world."

"You must be joking." The detective put down his glass and moved a little closer to her.

"No." She shook her head. "I have never attracted men. It's like I'm invisible to them, and I don't have time to and…"  
She stopped in her monologue, when she realized that only a breath separated her from her dinner partner, whose lips neared hers dangerously.

"I'm afraid,I have to disagree with you," the man said in a low voice as he held her eyes with his own."

"I wouldn't mind." The unusual response just slipped out of Charlotte's lips, but she didn't have time for regret, because Richard's kiss completely cleared her mind from any other thoughts.

The man gently embraced her and she found herself making a light purring noise because of the fantastic feeling of his kiss. Richard could hardly hold himself back. He didn't know why, but her little reaction made him more passionate. Slowly, he laid her down onto the sofa and caressed her lips with renewed passion, when suddenly a noise got his attention.  
At first Charlotte didn't know what had happened, only that from one moment to the other, the magic that had held her disappeared. She opened her eyes and breathing heavily, asked the man half lying above her.

"What happened?"

After hearing her voice, it was a hard job for Richard to get back his self-command and not to continue what he had started. Also out of breath, he answered.

"Didn't you hear it?"

"What?"

"A noise. From the front door. I'll take a look. Stay here!"

Richard stood up, and just for safety, he gripped the SIG-Sauer P-229, he always carried under his arm and stepped into the hall. Finding nothing, he turned on the light, and looking through the room, his eyes caught the sight of an envelope in front of the door.  
He stepped closer and took it. Not finding an address on it, he put on the gloves he kept in his pocket and slowly opened it. He found a little piece of paper. The text was glued together from letters of newspapers. He suspected what he was dealing with, but not in his wildest dreams could he ever imagine what he read from the letter.

"I didn't know our taste is so similar, detective. Maybe our little game has got a stake now. Let the best man win!"

Chapter 12

It was late and the place was empty. The pale green walls of the autopsy room, smelling of chemicals, were fading to darkness. Only one worktable was lighted by an old neon lamp, the one that was no one else's than Professor Challenger's.  
"What else did you expect?" Finn asked herself after she stepped into the room and started toward the source of the light. "Who else would stay here after work besides you?" The professor was concentrating so hard that he didn't even notice the girl until after she arrived close behind him.

"Good evening, Professor!"

"Oh! Evening?" The professor looked up surprised than he glanced at his watch and wrinkling his forehead he accepted the time. "What are youstill doing here?"

"Nothing exceptional, just this case… troubles me."

"First case?" He nearly smiled knowingly, as he typed something into the computer.

"Maybe that's why. But I can't help … this case is so exciting and a challenge and…"

"Exceptionally dangerous." He added in a monotone voice.

"Yes." She was slightly embarrassed because of her outburst and started to arrange the things on the desk. "What are you doing?"

"I'm analyzing the blood that was found on your uniform." He turned and looked at her over his glasses. "Probably this will be the key to our killer."

"Yes, it's great luck, that he made a mistake. This time, his blood stayed on the scene." She grinned devilishly. The professor made only a half smile as the deputy continued. "Can I stay till you finish?"

"Well," He rolled on his chair to the other computer and he pushed another button. "In half a minute we'll know the result…"

He was about through explaining the whole process of the analysis, when suddenly the lights went out, the computers turned off, and nothing was left save for the pale bluish light of the full moon streaming in. It let show only the lines of each other's forms.

"What a…" The professor started to say, when deputy Finnegan shut his mouth with her hands. As soon as she become sure that he'd stay silent, she slowly slipped her hand into her purse and took out her off duty Smith &Wesson M-3913 9mm pistol. . She silently stepped toward the window, in order to have more light, when she heard a noise from the professor. The next moment the computer, which was earlier the last step to catch a madman, crashed to the ground, making a sparkling fireball in the dangerously dark room.

"Professor! Are you all right!?", asked Finn, forcing her trembling voice to become confident again. A loud cry was heard, than a splashing sound. "Challenger! Answer me!" But no reply came, only another nerve-wrecking roar.  
She took the first phone from the wall, and crushed it to her ear. The line was dead!

"Hell." She cursed, then as carefully as she could, she slowly neared the source of the voice. Her stomach was shaking and she could hear the blood pounding in her ear, could feel as her every sense became more sensitive than ever and her fingers turned white from her hard grip on her gun. She felt as she stepped into something wet. Slowly, she got on her heels to see what it was, when she noticed in the dim light a bloodied hand creeping out behind a table.

"Challenger?" She hissed, but could do no more, because she felt something hitting her, and everything faded to black.

Chapter 13

"Professor! Professor!"

Professor George Edward Challenger was woken by Richard Redgrave shaking him gently. He opened his eyes and slowly, really slowly, managed to focus them. . Charlotte assisted the other man to help him sit up.

"Fetch some water and a first aid kit, please!" Richard ordered Charlotte, and the girl kneeling silently next to him jumped up to obey.

He could only hope when he drove in the middle of the night with the shaking girl in his car to find somebody in the laboratory, but he couldn't imagine in his wildest dreams this scene he had to witness. If only he didn't spend so much time calming Charlotte, rather than in calling everyone together. Everyone except for his noisy boss, who had switched off his cellphone. Who knows how long that letter was there in Charlotte's hall waiting for him to be found? Maybe if they had hurried, they could have prevented whatever had happened here. As soon as she returned with the medical kit, Charlotte started to clean the older man's face and hands from blood as Richard asked him, "What happened?"

"I would like to know that, too. I think I was knocked out." Challenger murmured.

"What do you remember?"

"I was analyzing the DNA sample on the computer when the deputy came in. The deputy! Where's Deputy Finnegan!" He shouted and it wasn't an easy job for Richard to sit him back down again.

"What an …"

Everyone looked at the door to see Special Agent Roxton stepping in.

"It seems that the Deputy has disappeared." Charlotte started to explain the situation as the agent walked around.

"More likely she was kidnapped," he corrected as he looked at a half opened purse lying on the floor in a bigger puddle.

"Someone made the fuse go out and everything was without power when we arrived. I switched it back on," said Redgrave.

"Yes, a power cut. I was nearly ready, when everything went out." Challenger said. "The deputy went to the light to see better, I suspect, and I could only jump away in the last minute before the computer fell over on me." He showed the damaged equipment on the floor.

"Good job." Roxton stated. "And why is water all over the floor?"

"The only subject I found was the sterilizer for the dissection-table. It split out hot water and luckily I could reach it. As soon as I felt some movement, I used it, and I think quite successfully , because whoever hit me moaned out loud." He suddenly hissed from the pain coming from his head, than continued. "When I heard the deputy calling out, I unfortunately didn't payed much attention, and after that I can't remember anything…"

"It's horrible! He kidnapped the deputy?" Charlotte asked on a small voice struggling with a lump in her throat. "But why, and how, and…" She couldn't decide to cry or to try to breathe steadily in spite of her dismay.

"It would be good to know why." Roxton said. "He damaged the computer in order to destroy evidence."

"You mean, it isn't possible anymore to examine the…"

"It's a small city, Miss, and I strongly doubt that we could get a report on the sent sample in a short time. The suspect wins time ,and he can destroy that also." The agent explained. "But at least we know that he's injured. Hope it's noticeable. I'll call around the hospitals in order to find something."

"Detective?" The professor asked. "How did you know I needed help?"

"What?" Richard narrowed his eyebrows questioningly, than realizing it, he reached into his pocket and took out an envelope packed in a thin plastic bag. "We didn't know. Only came to ask you to examine this. But I don't think you're capable of this at the moment."

"Nonsense!" Challenger straightened him out. "I'm not as old as I seem." He took away the bag and started to the nearest counter to work on it.

"You can wait outside," he said over his shoulder to the others standing behind him, his eyes not leaving his work for even a moment. "We hope that the varlet who did this left something usable, that scum who destroyed my laboratory."

Chapter 14

Special Agent Roxton wasn't comfortable within the white glazed tiled walls of the laboratory. The smell of the mixed chemicals spread through the room, and the bad machine made coffee wasn't able to quell it. The late hour, or more likely the early morning hour, wasn't disturbing him. He was accustomed to long periods without sleep. After the phone call, he dressed and drove to the police station without rushing.

But the others around him didn't share his work ethic. The victim, Miss Dunn, who was sitting on a chair opposite to him, wasn't awake. She didn't notice, but sleep overcame her and it seemed that she found Richard Redgrave's shoulder the best thing that could be used as a pillow. Not that the detective greatly minded it. He put one of his arms around her to hold her safer. "Or to embrace her? These two feel deeply for one another,." he thought. "Maybe Richard shouldn't work on this case any more. It's never good to be involved personally." He noticed it earlier, as he saw how the letter disturbed the other man, but Roxton couldn't tell if it was because of his feelings for the girl, or only his obsession about his work.

His thoughts were disturbed by the angelic Mss Krux's unladylike words used to characterize her coffee after the first sip. The arrogant prosecutor wasn't used to the graveyard shift. He curled his lips in a half smile. This woman partly irritated him, partly interested him. Badly. She brought out the hunting instinct in him that he hadn't felt for a very long time. A special agent easily can become numbed from too much excitement. And this woman was who might be able to pull him out of his shell. Even like this, in old, worn jeans and simple tank top, with flying hair and little makeup, she was breathtakingly beautiful. He could spend his whole day watching her.

"Why is he watching me again?," thought Marguerite Krux, and raised her eyes from her paper cup to the special agent. "Of course, now he has a reason to feel himself superior. How can anybody have such a fresh shirt and perfectly tied tie at a time like this? Every lock on his head is perfectly arranged, and that suit makes him more handsome than he already is. But why does he stare? Hasn't he already watched me enough?"  
The black haired woman thought back to her lunchtime with a sigh. Although she was alone at her table, she could hardly tell that she lunched without a companion. It was because at the table opposite to her, no other took a place than Special Agent Roxton. He didn't say a word; just nodded to her, and sat directly in front of her, and watched her during the whole time! Possibly every other woman would have pulled out a white flag and invited him to her table, but Marguerite was proud that she could hold her ground against the siege of the devilishly handsome man. "But how long can I bear this?" she asked herself…

At this moment, Ned and Veronica stepped in, jarring Marguerite back to the present. A simple nod was enough from Richard to let them know that they had missed nothing. Hardly had they acknowledged the fact, when Challenger appeared. The little investigative team woke up immediately to mass together, save for Charlotte, who needed some gentle touching from Richard to open her eyes.

"Well?" Roxton looked at the professor, expecting answers.  
"The letter was examined. I searched for fingerprints and saliva on the envelope, than concentrated on the paper and the letters. I couldn't analyze the glue. The letters were cut from different kinds of newspapers, not books. The paper is…"  
"The points, Professor!," Marguerite ordered, not too gently,.nervously rubbing her temples.  
Challenger looked up from his papers, gave them to Richard, then answered.  
"There's nothing that could contain DNA, nor any fingerprints."  
"Clean work." Veronica added, as she looked over the pages. "It means, tha…"  
"He's a professional." Ned finished for her.  
"Who plays a sick game." Richard completed the thought.  
"What's with the sample we've found on the uniform?" Veronica asked.

The others looked to one another, and Richard knew that it was his duty to tell them the latest happenings.

"I think it's time to sit down for a long discussion," he sighed

Chapter 15

The sound of an engine. A slamming of a door. Some little light peeking in from underneath the door. That was all that warned Deputy Finnegan of the arrival of her captor. The girl came around only a few minutes earlier in an empty room, bound to a chair and gagged with a cloth. Her first thought after a full and very unladylike swear word was the possibility of her escape. Hardly could she size up her position, when after the telltale signs, the door opened and bright light dazzled her.

"Well, are we awake?," A form standing in the shadows spoke, and before she could see better, he slipped behind her and pulled out the rag from her mouth.

"Who are you? What do you want?," she hawked after some gulping to efface the bitter taste of the cloth.

"Isn't it your job to find out?" He sounded good-humored.

"And yours is to kill innocent people?"

"Oh, much more." The deputy felt his eyes slowly measure her, and the man with a deep, evil laugh bent down to her ears to answer.  
"Killing is just the end. Till then, so many exciting things can be done, they must be used. Do you want me to go into details?" The girl's grimace called forth another dark laugh and he continued.  
"It doesn't matter. I know you prefer practice and I promise, I'll teach you everything in time."

The voice seemed very strange to her. It was clear, that he played with it, deepened it dramatically like in a bad theatric performance. He wanted to scare her; that's why he didn't show his face, too.

"Why me?" She continued the conversation in order to make him give himself away. "I don't think I'm your type…"

Her brave sentence was rewarded with a sudden move and her speech was stopped by a sharp blade at her throat.

"I have many reasons, but mostly because you distracted me."

He pulled the blade over the line of her drawn neck slowly, drinking happiness form the sight of her withheld breath.

"I really don't like it when I'm interrupted. But don't you worry: soon you'll have some company. Those who also distract me…

He laughed again shortly, closed his knife, and stood up. She heard him working on something behind her back and she wanted to win some time.

"It doesn't fit into the serial killing. You're stepping out of your role."

"Exactly." The voice said from farther than before.  
"The game changed character, but only to make it more exciting. Are you not curious, who the winner will be?"

"I'd bet on me, not you."

"It can be easily done," he replied cheerfully, but now from really close. He reached around her and in spite of her writhing, he managed to hold a cloth over her face to make her breathe in the chloroform. She knew what was coming, felt the dizziness, and slowly lost conscious.

"Good night, police girl." He said goodbye, and unhurriedly walked away.

Chapter 16

Miss Marguerite Krux, despite the long years she had spent in the university, never knew such great tiredness as she felt, when she closed her apartment's door behind herself.

The whole night was spent with useless search. The letter that had been pushed under Charlotte's door strengthened everyone's suspicions. The killer drove on again, and this time his victim was Finnegan. But the most aggravating thing was this man's self-confidence!

The pokey text of the letter, indicating that they're playing a game, and the fact that he'd left a letter, all spoke that he had a clever mind. And who should know better, than the courtroom hardened Miss Krux, that the most dangerous opponent is the one who's confident and clever.

Marguerite closed her eyes in spite of her hard concentration not to let her fall asleep leaning on the door. Luckily, or maybe not so, the bell gave her help in this task, with its loud, nerve-wrecking sound. With a big sigh, she slowly turned and not even asking who it was, opened the door.

"What are you doing here?" She asked as soon as she saw who stood in front of her, then yawned.

"Good morning to you, too!," Roxton said , leaning on her door frame, grinning.

"His appearance is still spotless. How on earth can he remain so handsome always? She thought that , but immediately become angry at herself.

"Can I come in?

"No. Look, I…"

"What a beautiful home you have!" He stepped in, obviously without any invitation.

"Special Agent Roxton…"

"Please, call me John! And you'd better close the door before you catch a cold."

Marguerite couldn't decide whether to scream or to laugh. She was simply too tired for any kind of decision at the moment, not to mention having a dispute with this impossible man.

"You opened the door too quickly." The man said.

"Pardon?" She turned to him.

"You didn't even look to see who it was. It could be the killer, too." He stepped closer with a serious expression on his face. "Our man is dangerous. You must be more careful."

"You came to inform me of this?" She folded her arms, giving a biting look to the agent, who was towering over her.

"If you offer me a cup of tea, I'll tell you why I came." He answered with a hint of smile in his voice.

"I have only coffee."

"With two sugars and a lot of milk. I'll wait here." With that, Roxton turned and left for the living room.

As the usually insistent Miss Krux accepted her defeat with a sigh and went to the kitchen, Roxton spent his time observing the room.

She had immaculate taste in everything. The room was nice, comfortable, a real home. Not too tidied, but not messy. A lot of books, disks, and a couple of photos on the shelves. On her coffee table were some magazines, a television remote control, and a letter… A letter. A letter with a familiar address: to Richard.

Roxton instinctively pulled out his SIG- Sauer P-220 .45 from its holster and slipped to the wall as soundlessly as he could, than listened for noises. "Damn, nothing." It was worse than he imagined. "Even making coffee makes some noise." He thought about that, and started toward the kitchen.

The first thing that caught his eyes was the black wavy curls on the floor. He suddenly turned into the room and pointed his weapon exactly at the masked man, who stood above Marguerite's unconscious body. But he was too late in shooting, his opponent forwent him. Two muffed thuds from a silenced pistol could be heard, but both bullets went into the wall next to Roxton's ear. When he shot to reply to the fire, the other man was gone, leaving the back door open.

Without a second's hesitation, Roxton hurriedly dropped next to the woman. His heart noticeably beat bigger faster as soon as he could feel the strong throbbing of her pulse. Carefully he examined her head, but luckily found nothing. Doing this caused her to stir and swoon as her emerald eyes captured his.

"Did you catch him?," was her first question.

"No, but now it's not important."

The special agent carefully pulled her into his arms and carried her into the living room in order to lay her on the sofa. When he was done, Marguerite was fast asleep. With a deep sigh, John Roxton dug his fingernails into his perfectly manicured right hand, then with his other hand, reached for the phone.

"Roxton. Send an ambulance and the CSI to Miss Krux's. Our man was here."

Keeping one eye on the sleeping woman, Special Agent John R. Roxton did something he hadn't done for a long time. Loosened his tie, and poured a drink for himself…

Chapter 17

"It simply doesn't make any sense." Detective Redgrave nervously pushed his fingers through his hair, than leaned back in his chair. His tie hung disheveled over his shirt, which was loosened around his neck. Growing whiskers darkened half his face and his only wish was for a nice shower that could maybe inspire clear thoughts to his tired body.

But the others around him didn't look better, either. The whole conference room was a mess. Old papers and notes towered on the tables and the floor, too. The walls were papered with maps, full with post-its and photos. It was of no use. They couldn't go from one step to the other.

On the other side of the room, Veronica Malone and the professor were trying to understand a bad fingerprint in the light of a neon lamp without any success. Next to them, Charlotte examined the mug shot book with Miss Krux's help. But Marguerite knew from the end of the first book, that in the girl's eyes every criminal looked equal. Special Agent Roxton was standing in front of the maps with a rueful expression on his face. Just like Ned Malone, who was sitting opposite to Richard.

"He's always before us by just one step." Redgrave continued as he stared at the maps.

"And with more in thoughts. Did you see the letter, I found?" Roxton walked around and reached over the table and Marguerite Krux's shoulder to find the piece of paper he was talking about.

"Hope you don't want to read it out again. I'm shivering from the thoughts." The dark haired woman groaned.

"Maybe from the tiredness and the stress. Wouldn't it be wiser to sleep, Miss Krux?" Charlotte tried, but all the answer she got was a glare.

"At first, we have to stop him from actually setting our work back.." Richard said.

"Do you mean the laboratory is still in danger?" Professor Challenger took a step closer.

"Probably." Richard nodded. "If he takes our tools from our hands, we will always remain one step behind him."

"It's like chasing a Jaguar with a bicycle." Ned used his writer vein to clear any doubts, but after an undivided silence, decided on being more useful. "But how can we guarantee that?"

"Put out the 'Closed' sign on the door?" Miss Krux leaned over the table with a sarcastic smile on her face, and challenged the handsome agent with her eyes.

"Not a bad idea!" Redgrave, too, leaned on the table to pull everyone's attention to himself. "We must make him think that there's nothing he needs to destroy. That he was successful. And this will be Ned's job."

Edward Malone nodded approvingly.

"It sounds reasonable."

"You'll give out a press release about the destruction of the evidence? Isn't it too transparent?" Charlotte asked timidly.

"Yes, it is." Ned said. "I would recommend a press conference. Moreover, it should be open to the public, in case our friend would like to attend."

"These sick men love to see the fruits of their work." Veronica said disgusted by the thoughts.

"Our second problem is the prevention." Roxton continued. "It's without a doubt, that his targets are the ladies from our little group. I see only two options." He put down his paper cup and looked at them. "The first is to run. Constant protective custody, more policemen, mail and phone watching."

"Forget it!" Marguerite stated.

"I won't be a prisoner in my own home!" Veronica burst out.

"It seems fairly insupportable for me." Charlotte noticed.

"What is the other variation?" Ned asked.

"The second option is a trap." Roxton stopped but continued as he started to pace the room. "We put someone in the window as a target, and wait for the right moment. The press conference would be a great occasion for this. In the meantime, we'll watch the crowd and will take care not to be overpowered."

For a moment the air froze in the room. They had to decide on a very dangerous action, and it was Richard's task to do it.

"Veronica? Will you take it?"

At first it seemed that she gave her approval, but to everyone's surprise, she hesitated. She chewed nervously on her lips and fought for the words.

"Richard, I… Oh hell, I didn't want you to let it know this way, Ned…"

"Love, is something problem?" Malone rushed to her and held onto her arms, to support her in any misery. "What's that?"

"I…Ned… I'm pregnant." So this was it. At last she had told him.

Edward T. Malone was staring at his wife for a while, than an enormous grin appeared on his face and with a big shout, he lifted her in his arms and spun around.

The scene made evn the stone- hearted Miss Krux smile, and they congratulated the grinning father candidate and the still embarrassed mother.

"I'm so sorry, Richard" Veronica said, but the detective didn't give her a chance to excuse herself.

"I don't. mind It's high time for you to have a baby." He smiled. "Then I'll ask for an outsider for this job."

"Is it wise to let more people into this investigation? The chance of news leaking out will increase." Challenger observed.

"Unfortunately, I don't see any other way," Roxton stated.

"I think you've forgotten something." A voice form the other side of the table said.

Marguerite Krux waited till all eyes were at her to make her announcement.

"I'll do it."

Her sentence produced more amazement than she already expected. The most theatrical was Special Agent Roxton's reaction, with an irritated grimace and an angry sigh.

"Do you have any problem?" The black haired woman pulled up one of her elegant eyebrows questioningly.

"It's no job for a civilian. Forget it!" He grunted.

Hardly left the last few words his lips, when the women shoved herself over the table with a tricky jump, pulled out the surprised Richard's gun from his holster and the next moment Special Agent Roxton could examine the black barrel of a SIG-Sauer P-229 closely.

The agent's expression, which showed his defeat, made Miss Krux smile triumphantly. Still shining in her victory, she handed the gun back to a disgruntled Richard , then stepped closer to the still FBI man, and said with a hint of smile in her voice.

"I promise I will leave my powder-puff at home."

Chapter 18

The press room of the city hall was full of reporters and photographers. They couldn't wait to switch on the cameras which were pointed at the podium. They expected to make the spokesman of the police be inundated with thousands of questions. The Red Lipstick killer brought a spark to the local media's life, that wasn't previously experienced for a long time, if ever! Every sign, a tell-tale slip of the tongue, or an eye blink by an official can be important for a sensational story or article. Reporters were alert for any of these subtle signals.

But the impatiently moving and order making reporters didn't notice that some cameras were without TV station logos and a few "new colleagues" were watching them.

"Ok. Everything is just like I've planned." Ned Malone explained the situation, in the TV room to Detective Redgrave, showing every detail on the monitors. "Here's everyone from the biggest to the lowest media. We didn't prohibit civilians from attending, so anyone can come in. The first camera at the entrance records everyone's face that comes in. If someone accidentally slips in without a usable photo, our cameraman searches for him in the room."

Richard stepped closer and bent down to one of the monitors to watch one of the cameramen. It was a perfect disguise. Not even he could recognize his man.

"Good job. You know, our main task is to show Marguerite onscreen as much as it's possible. It isn't important who is at the microphone. She will be in the background, but always in the picture."

"But not to make her conspicuous." Ned finished the thought. "I know my job, boss. I have a lot of experience in it. You can be sure, everything will go well. I collected the best for this."

Richard nodded and patted him on the back, then when he looked again on the screens, his eyes glued to one of the pictures.

"How on earth can that be?," he said and stormed away.

At first Ned didn't know what it all meant, but after he also looked at the picture, everything made sense. Charlotte Dunn stood in one of the corners and spoke to Avery Burton. Well, well, he thought and almost laughed out loud. Veronica was right. Richard is in love.

Chapter 19

The art of makeup interested Marguerite Krux, as with every woman. She liked it when she felt herself beautiful, but everything had a price. This petite cosmetics woman was working on her face for half an hour now, and she was getting impatient.

"I can look that hot?" She murmured to herself when finally the cosmetician left her alone. She was leaning back in her chair and gave out a big sigh when she noticed in the mirror that the door slowly opening. Suddenly, she shivered, but when she recognized who came in, she calmed down as much as she could in the presence of the handsome Special Agent Roxton.

"Oh, it's only you."

"Good day to you too, Miss Krux!" The always polite response came with a charming smile.

"Can't you knock?"

"Have I frightened you?" The man asked back, then stepped closer and through the mirror looked into the woman's eyes. "You can still back out."

"You must be kidding." Marguerite smiled and pretended to correct something on her make up. She was about to reach for a spot on her face, when suddenly the world span around her. But not the Earth, only the revolving chair in which she sat. Stopping, she found herself in front of a very passionate pair of greenish-brown eyes.

"This is not a joke." Roxton growled, locking her look with his.

"I know." The short answer came immediately, holding his gaze, which bore into her.

"And not even a play."

"Also known."

"You can lose more than a case."

"I've never lost a case, I won't lose this either."

"You're irrational."

"You're irritable."

"You're irresistible."

And to make sure that his word would remain the last, Roxton kissed her with a strength and passion hehad never felt before.  
At first Marguerite didn't know what to do, but letting her instincts drive her actions, she raised both of her hands to his cheeks and tuned his head a little to feel his lips fully. Noticing her encouragement Roxton gave out a growl and embracing the woman in his arms, he ravaged her lips until they could stand to be no longer without air.

But as quickly as he started, so suddenly, but far from soon the man stopped the kiss. He had never felt so strongly for any woman in his life, and the feeling that somebody could overrule his self-control was strange to him.

"I won't let you encounter any harm," he stated after the woman finally opened her eyes, then before anything more could be said or done, he stood and stormed away.

For a while Marguerite just stared the spot before her, where a few minutes earlier an unbelievable man kneeled and kissed her, and then she straightened herself and looked into the mirror. It was interesting, but this time she liked the sight better than last time.

Chapter 20

Every footstep Richard Redgrave made showed strong anger. He couldn't hide it, even if he recognized, how irritated the screen he saw in the monitor-room made him. He needed every bit of his strength to hold on to his self-control. Because of this, he stopped for a moment, when the chatting pair came to sight, forcing himself to calm down. But why was he so annoyed? Hundreds and hundreds of believable answers occurred to him,, but they wouldn't have been true. Except for only one, the one he didn't dare to confess, not even to himself. Jealousy. That can't be. He shoved the thought away. But why did it bother him that those hazel eyes weren't raised to him, but to someone else?

In this very moment, just as if his thoughts had been sensed, those hazel eyes found his blue ones and the world changed.

Charlotte had never felt such relief, as when at the other side of the hall, she spotted Him. They hardly seen each other in the last 12 hours and every minute without him was pure agony.

"Hm. Hm." Only a fake cough warned Avery Burton to the arrival of Detective Redgrave. Slightly annoyed that he was disturbed in his pleasant closeness with the lovely Miss Dunn, he turned and took a step backward, to give some room to his boss.

"Detective Redgrave. I was having a chat with the lady," he said charmingly.

"I don't remember you being attached to this place, Burton." Richard's voice was commanding. Charlotte could feel goose bumps on her back from his tone. She felt herself awkward in the unwanted company of Mr. Burton, and although the appearance of the detective brought a moment of softening, his unexpected stony look bothered her.

"Well, I am not." Charlotte's thoughts were broken by Avery's response.

"Then, what are you doing here?," demanded Richard.

"I was only interested in this case, and thought maybe I'd attend this press conference." He started to explain himself.

"Aside of service time you can do as you wish, but when you're on duty, you have to follow orders."

This command produced a frozen mood, that couldn't be melted by the fire of the two men's eyes. Burton nodded. Flashing a last charming smile to Charlotte, he turned to her.

"Maybe we can continue another time. Good bye!"

Not waiting for an answer, but bathing in every drop of his boss's anger, he marched away with calm steps.

For a while Richard was looking after the retiring form, without noticing the obvious battle that Charlotte fought inside of herself. She didn't know what to say or do after this scene. But her decision wasn't needed, because the detective gripped her arm and without a word walked her to a nearby empty room.

"What are you doing here?" He growled when they were alone.

Charlotte freed her arm and rubbed the painful spot answering.

"Playing chess. What do you think?"

"Where is the officer I assigned to you? Correctly: Where is the ex-officer I assigned to you?"

"In the bar." She answered with huge eyes.

The man angrily dug his fingers in his black locks and started to pace the room.

"You have no business here!"

Charlotte Dunn would have sobbed, but these words hurt her more.

"I see." It was all that could come out of her throat.

In this moment the detective shook his head and looked at the girl. Only two short words and they contained everything. And the best thing in them was, that he got his answers for every question he had.

Slowly he stepped to her and raised her chin to look into her eyes. She didn't want him to see her misery and she avoided his gaze. This little act of childish stubbornness made him smile slightly.

"No, you don't," he whispered. "I would give my right arm just to be with you always."

"Truly?" Charlotte looked up hopefully, but still unsure, and Richard's heart clenched at the sight of those teary eyes.

"Truly. And the other arm to know that you are the furtherest place from me, when I'm in danger."

These word made her smile and cry at the same time.

"I think…" The man started to continue on a low voice as he neared her lips. "I think, that…"

In this moment the door burst open and Ned rushed in.

"So you're here! Richard, we have to go!"

"Wait outside!" The detective growled at his friend.

"But…"  
"I said, wait outside!"

"OK, buddy…" Malone grinned widely and marched out.

At this comical dialogue the pair didn't move, not even an inch, and they could continue from the exact point when they were so rudely interrupted. Richard nearly kissed her, when Charlotte said:

"What?"

"Pardon me?" His eyes shot up because of her strange word.

"You wanted to tell me something." The girl smiled as she impatiently waited for the answer. "Well?"

"Richard! Tribune is here!" Once again Ned's head appeared in the doorway, and Richard knew that he truly didn't have more time. Without a word, he gripped Charlotte and pulled her to the door.

But before they could step out, he turned and shortly, but rather convincingly, kissed the surprised girl. Smiling at her disturbed but dreamy expression, he felt again the sudden urge to see those hazel eyes, and told her the words he didn't remember ever leaving his lips.

"I love you."

Chapter 21

Deputy Finnegan was still sleeping, bound to the chair she was in, when the door silently opened and her captor slipped in. Using the opportunity of her unconcious state, he started to reorganize the room, rolling in a television set in front of the woman. This empty room was always his favorite place. Only a chair and thick walls, that swallowed every noise, even the loudest screams…. Not even an electrical outlet was on the walls; that's why he had to use an extension cord to set up. The man in the mask moved calmly in the room, like a property man in work time, not paying much attention to the awakening girl.  
Hearing the noises of his actions, the deputy seemed to be getting rid of the effects of the drug. How long have I been out? she asked herself and would have voiced her curiousity; have her mouth not been as dry as the sand in the Sahara.  
The low groan that she managed to produce made the man notice her, and holding a remote control in one hand, he brought a glass of water.

"Thirsty?," he asked, holding the glass to her mouth. But instead of letting her drink, he dumped the water in her face.

The angry noise she gave in response entertained him, and he was almost laughing when he spoke.

"Don't you like the treatment? But I was so thoughtful.! You got water, and to make you feel at home, I used your own handcuffs." Finnegan's eyes suddenly opened in alarm and she accepted with a furious flush of adrenaline the fact that he was right. With her hands locked behind her and to the chair, she couldn't see them, and one set of cuffs looked much like another. But she knew in her heart that he had chosen this additional means of humilating her, taunting her to add to her shame.

"As I see, everything is ready for a perfect movie. It's time for the local news. I'm sure you'll like the familiar faces."

Turning away, he switched on the television with a devilish laugh.  
The special broadcast was about the mysterious red lipstick serial killer. The media conference, held by the police, was led by Ned Malone. He introduced the attendants and chose from the army of reporters to ask questions. After a long and absolutely unimportant propaganda speech from Sheriff T. T. Tribune, Richard Redgrave stepped to the front to report the state of the investigation.  
The surprise of the deputy was more than huge. She was shocked by news of the destroyed and completely unusable laboratory, and the description of the killer was the opposite of the profile she knew so far. What's going on here?  
What made Finnegan tremble prompted the murderer's smile. They weren't even near the truth, and the technical backlog increased his joy. Every single picture overwhelmed him with sick, mad happiness. He could see Detective Redgrave presenting great mistakes as facts in the crossfire of the reporters, and the beautiful Miss Marguerite Krux shining in the background. She's a fantastic woman without a doubt. There isn't any trace of the wound I produced. I must solve this little problem of ourss. But what about the little blonde? Maybe she would be more cooperatve in company.  
His thoughts created another evil grin, only it didn't show behind the mask. But the girl's horror became obvious as she watcthed the newscast. He switched off the machine and stood in front of it.

"Well, little one? Did you enjoy the show?"

"You're mad." She groaned, disgusted.  
"What do you think about if we continue it?," he asked, and pulled off the mask from his head.

"You?!" She nearly screamed.

Never had one pair of eyes looked at him so frightened as these green ones did now. It's a shame that they aren't brown, he thought and started his work.

Chapter 22

The simple little restaurant at the end of the street radiated calmness and intimacy. The white-red chequered tablecloth, the pleasant candlelight and the delicious smells coming from the kitchen guaranteed the perfect dinner in every aspect.

It was really hard for Marguerite Krux to hold on to her normal officious mood, when she was near Special Agent John Roxton. It was even harder, when the same gentleman on a perfect night like this, in such romantic circumstances, sat opposite her and flashed his most charming smile frmo above his wine glass.  
But she could curse only herself for this situation. If she hasn't been such a fool as to offer herself for this "bait" role, now she could drown her special feeling toward Agent Roxton in ice cream on her own sofa at home. But, no. She was sitting here in this cute little restaurant in her cream colored suit and red satin blouse, playing the role of the cold attorney. The most frightening thing was that for the first time in her life, she felt that she couldn't finish the performance.

When Agent Roxton insisted that Miss Krux stay in his personal protection, thus the dinner together, he thought that he was over the worst. He was wrong. To touch the soul of this woman was like reaching into the middle of a fire. Dangerous, and seemingly impossible without injury. But Roxton knew, felt, that there was something precious that was worth the fight, and he wouldn't mind even if he was burned alive. He knew that with every minute, she become weaker. The scene was perfect, the mood was perfect, and it was only the question of time to break her. He wore his best suit, he was fresh, determinated, in one word irresistible, and the worst was, that he knew it.

"What would you like for dessert?" He asked her to break the silence.

The woman raised her deep eyes to him and answered with another question.

"Don't you think that this "official" dinner is already too long, Agent Roxton?"

"How many times must I ask you to call me John, dear Marguerite? I thought that after today's happenings, it might easier for you."

His confident smile partly irritated, partly excited the woman.

"I don't know why we should be more personal, just because you kissed me."

Mentioning the "just" word in one sentence with their first kiss, irritated him as much as anything else had in his pursuit of this woman.

"We wouldn't, if you hadn't kissed me back." he retorted. Not giving her time for another clever reply, he continued. "And not a simple kiss: it was passionate. You can't deny it. If you felt only the half of what your kiss showed, even then I could announce myself the luckiest man on earth. Say that you don't feel this way, and I'll leave you alone, I promise."

She didn't expect it. Superciliousness? Yes. Anger, hurt, insult? Maybe. But to state the facts and express his feeling so profoundly was the last thing that could came to her mind. After so many lies had she heard in her past, his straight talk got to her as an electric shock.

"Yes" It slipped through her lips and to make herself clear, she added. "You're right."

With these few words the ice seemed to be broken. The dessert brought not only sweet tastes but pleasant talk to the dinner and the "forced" dinner partners soon discovered themselves having a great time.

"I wouldn't have thought, that we'll be able to talk like civilized people." Marguerite noticed, as she walked out to the dark street from the entrance of the restaurant. Special Agent Roxton stepped next to her and they walked side by side to his car.

"I knew it." The man smiled.

"Really? And how?" The woman arched one eyebrow elegantly.

"Cop instinct." Came the simple answer and he opened the door for her. Marguerite Krux stepped closer and maybe encouraged by the good rose, she asked him again with a tempting look in her eyes.

"And what says your cop instinct now?"

The answer was nothing else than a loving kiss of his lips. It wasn't like the one they shared before. It was calmed, loving, it showed strength, but with the feeling of safety. It was something neither of them had experienced before, but really needed. After a time that seemed life forever they pulled apart, and were about to get into the car, when Roxton suddenly pulled the woman back. His eyes swept through the insides of his Ford.

"We must disappear from here. Someone has touched the car."

Chapter 23

The events were getting crowded for Marguerite. In one minute, she was passionately kissing with Roxton, and in the other, she was trying to keep up with the long strides of the special agent's double-quick steps. His grip on her hand didn't soften.

Although they didn't say a word, they both knew that they were heading for the police station. If only the street wasn't so dead.. Roxton thought as he changed direction in the hope of a shorter way.

"Marguerite, do you have a cell phone?"

"Yes." She gripped her briefcase and started to search through it. Thanks to adrenalin or blind luck, she caught it almost immediately.

"I've got it."

"Good. Now, remember this."

The man suddenly stopped. Someone was after them. As quickly as he could, he hid in a dark alley with the woman, who was nearly shaking.

"Come what may, keep the 'phone with you and turn it on. Ok?"

She nodded without a word.

"Ok. Now, we'll step out, and run until the avenue. If we're in a crowded place, we're safe. "

Another nod, a squeeze of a hand, and the pair started their action.

The noises of their fast steps only added to the tension. Every step brought them closer to escape from the unknown danger, but those few meters seemed like everlasting miles to them.  
Than a dull noise was heard and Marguerite felt the man's hard grip had lost her.  
When she looked back, Roxton lay on the ground, motionless.

"John!" She hurriedly knelt down next to him, but her effort was a waste of time. He wasn't moving; only the red stain on his chest grew without a stop. Noticing the cell phone that she still held, she called the first number she could: 911…the Detective Division.

"Redgrave!", came the voice from the other side.

"John was shot and he isn't moving. We're not alone. Richard…" She cried into the telephone.

"Calm down, Marguerite!" Detective Redgrave's determined voice didn't allow protest,and he tried to rule the unruleable situation. "Don't panic! Tell me, where you are! Are you there, Marguerite? Marguerite!"

But the answer never came. The phone lay there in the dirty, dark street, as the blood of Special Agent John R. Roxton slowly flowed, painting the pavement a fatal color…

Chapter 24

The office of Detective Redgrave started to become Charlotte's second home. Who knows how many times she fell down onto the old sofa for a small nap, and she could find anything without opening even one unneeded drawer, if she wanted to drink an honest coffee or tea.  
Right now, she was awakening from a well earned sleep. She opened her eyes, and her look immediately met with her love's.

"Did you sleep well?" Richard asked as he took down the papers he was examining to sweep away some naughty tress from her face.

Charlotte felt a slight ache in her neck, but she smiled.

"The awakening was better."

The heart stopping answer was rewarded with a soft loving kiss, that would be still continue if the detective's cell phone hadn't rung.  
"Redgrave," he growled into it, not bothering to hide his irritation.

Although Charlotte couldn't hear what it was all about, she could tell from his face that it wasn't good news. The detective stood up and continued in the his most commanding voice.

"Calm down, Marguerite! Don't panic! Tell me, where you are! Are you there, Marguerite? Marguerite!"

The answer mustn't have satisfied him, because Richard Redgrave shoved open his office's door, and on a voice that allowed no protest shouted orders.

"Immediately detect Marguerite Krux's cell phone location. I want to know where it is at this moment. Am I clear?"

By the time, the door slammed again, the detective was speaking on the phone at his table.

" Is the DNA analysis ready? That's too much. We don't have that much time. 30 minutes, at best."

He got off the phone again, but it rang in the same moment.

"Send an ambulance there and a unit. I'll be there."

Charlotte didn't have to ask: Richard face told her everything. The girl waited till he put on his coat, then she simply snuggled to him and gave a kiss.

"Be careful."

Chapter 25

Looking at the street shining in the all- too- familiar lights of the ambulance and police cars, Detective Redgrave felt a nervousness that he had never before felt in quite this way, to this degree. . Not again, he worried. Don't let her be the fourth! He squealed the tires of his old car with sudden, hard braking, and shoved open his door to run to the ambulance. The scene was horrid.

A group of doctors and E.R.. men busied themselves around a motionless form, and he wasn't allowed to come near until, irritated, he showed his sheriff's department I. D.

"Detective Redgrave," he announced. "What happened?"

"A gunshot victim. The blood lost is significant; makes the status critical. Unconscious," the doctor told him shortly, still headed away from him. Richard was about to ask more, when he got a place around the patient.

"Roxton," he breathed when he recognized his bloodied colleague. The scene nearly shocked him. Before he could come to his senses, the doors of the emergency transport vehicle closed with a big bump before him, and in a minute, only its fading blue lights and the diminishing wail of its siren were left.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Deputy Finnegan didn't know how long she had slept. The last thing she remembered was something she was sure that she would never forget in her life. She could feel the bitter taste of blood in her mouth and it was sheer agony to open her puffy eyes. But she had to, in order to detect her surroundings.

She was alone, luckily. But she didn't know for how long, and when it might change. She moved angrily, but it only caused her wrists to ache more because of the handcuffs.

"The bastard." She cursed, than tried to think. Her own handcuff! And her keys were in her pocket. If only she knew whether she was searched thoroughly, or not? Could she be so lucky, that the answer was no?

The sudden ray of hope was not long, because steps were heard. If he came in and found her awake, he'd drug her or beat her unconscious again. Knowing this easy rule, she didn't have to think much to know what she had to do.

The door opened with a crack and she heard her captor's steps. He brought something heavy with him, because his breathing was harsh, and he put it down beside her legs, on the floor. It was a hard thing to deny the urge to look at it, and know that she wanted to be alone more than ever.

"Well, little sleeping beauty!" He hissed in her ear, but surprisingly, she could hold her role as a fainted lady in spite of his dangerous voice. "I have a little surprise for you when you awake." This statement was followed by sick laughter, then the sound of steps and the closing of the door.

It took long minutes to dare to open her eyes again. She was afraid of the scene she would have to endure. At last, she breathed deeply, and did it. She was slightly relieved, when not a corpse or something more horrible was waiting for her. But to tell the truth, she wasn't exactly happy about this situation either.

"Miss Krux?," she whispered, seemingly only to herself.

Chapter 26

The occupants of the laboratory made a small crowd in one corner of the room. Ned, Veronica and Professor Challenger stared at the screen of the computer as one so sternly, that they didn't notice that someone else had stepped in.

"Any result?"

The question came suddenly, and they turned together to take a disapproving look at Charlotte Dunn. Because of her unintentional surprise, only Veronica deigned to give her an answer.

"No, but the sake of everyone's good health, please make some noise next time, you come near somebody."

The girl nodded, like a good schoolgirl, and continued asking.

"How goes the process?"

Before the professor could dive in with a precise -and without a doubt- long description, Ned forwent him.

"We've already scanned the sample and now, we're waiting for the computer to find matches with the data base. Maybe we'll have luck.'

"What do you mean by luck?"

"If his sample ever was needed, and they stored it."

"It means that only a particular circle is indefinable?"

"Exactly."

The next question was stopped by the beeping noise of the computer. Everyone looked at it, but the flame of trust died from their faces as soon as Veronica read aloud the result.

"No match found." She sighed.

"What can we do now?" Charlotte asked again.

"Not much. To tell the truth, I think nothing. Richard was proved right again. Damn. Ned answered again, with not little anger in his voice. "He told us, that probably our man has a clean record, so we'll never find him in this database."

"Can I ask one more question?"

"Why not? We have nothing else to do…" the professor murmured, but he was ignored.

"Do we have any other database?"

The three professionals looked at her, astonished. It was so easy, so fundamental, that they forgot it. What an enormous mistake they nearly made!!

"Professor" Ned turned to the computer. "Run the test on the samples of the police officer's personal materials."

"But Ned… it's permission required..."

"Shall I do it?" Veronica interrupted.

The answer wasn't needed; the professor started the test with a new impulse. They waited through the next few minutes with deathly silence until the welcome little beep of the machine.

In the middle of the screen a short text appeared:

"MATCH FOUND."

Chapter 27

Miss Krux! Miss Krux!"

Marguerite could hear her someone calling her name through a thick fog. But it was so far away, and it felt so painful to open her eyes… Why couldn't't they let her sleep a bit more? A little pause, and she heard it again. Then she felt a kick in her side, so she decided to fight down that awful fog and opened her eyes.  
The first thing that she spotted – not too clearly- was a dark figure, or maybe two? No, it was certainly one,and strangely bound.

"Finnegan?", she croaked at last.

"Miss Krux! Thank Heaven, you awoke!" The girl answered.

"Where am I?" She looked around.

" What's more important is, how we can get out?" , Finnegan corrected her.

"I'm listening to every idea."

"You're not bound. Maybe he gave you enough chloroform to think you won't wake for a long time."

"He might have been right, if you hadn't kicked me." To prove her point, she theatrically rubbed her aching side.

"I'm sorry, I had to. But now, please free me."

"Ok. Bibiddee-bobbodee-boo." She frowned with her sarcastic reply, and the girl sighed.

"The keys are in my back pocket, if we're lucky." Finnegan informed her.

Marguerite slowly stood up, and tried to find the deputy's back. In the bad light it wasn't an easy job. When success seemed close, she heard a soft hiss of pain.

"Deputy, are you all right?", she asked,, slightly worried.

"Just say that I'm still alive."

The public attorney responded with an unladylike sentence, and an oath that she would make their persecutor's life hell if they ever met in court. Understanding the girl's previous reaction, she touched her more carefully to find her pocket.

The air was getting heavy with worry and strain. Finallyl, with a big sigh, Marguerite stated, "I got it."

As quickly as she could, she opened the handcuffs, and the bonds on Finnegan's ankles were soon off, too.

"What's next?", asked Marguerite as she helped Nicole to stand.

"We'll wait till he opens the door and.." The young blonde couldn't finish her sentence, because she dropped to the floor on her first try at standing up. The circulation in her legs was still impaired by her former bonds.

In this moment, they heard footsteps and someone neared the door. Everything slowed down and neither of them knew what to do. The door knob moved, the door nearly opened, but then a ringing sound interrupted the whole process. The key turned back again and the two women were left alone together on the floor of the dark room.

Chapter 28

Richard Redgrave drove through the city like a maniac. He could see the goal in front of his eyes and every minute was worth a fortune. It was no use, Charlotte's crying on the phone, practically begging him not to act before the forces arrived. Two of his colleagues' lives were at risk, and the impotent rage because he couldn't help the third only made his anger worse..  
He couldn't find anything on the scene except for Roxton's blood and the dropped cell phone, but the call he got answered his every question. How could he be so blind? All this time he was in front of their noses and he couldn't see it. It was a miracle that the kidnapper didn't cause more trouble than he had, because he could… Thanks to Challenger and Ned, they'd soon find out where he held the girls captive, and it was all Richard needed to get into his car and step on the gas.  
He turned off the motor in front of the house and because he saw light, he started to the front door to ring the bell. The next three minutes felt like eternity, and although he knew his acts were not planned, he couldn't stand to rely on his instincts.  
There were footsteps heard from the other side of the door, than a click, and the door opened.

Charlotte Dunn felt like being in the middle of a beehive. The organized movements of the running, commanded police forces seemed like chaos to her, and she didn't know for sure where she was and what she should do. Before she could count to two, she found herself in a police car with Veronica and a fuming Ned, driving to Richard's aid.  
Richard… What is he doing now? 'Oh, please don't let any harm to come to him… 'Only the thought of him sharing Roxton's fate, lying between life and death in a faint neon- illuminated hospital room, made her terrified. The most horrible was that she knew Ned was right, when he murmured:  
"There's not a chance that we can arrive there before he'll step into the lion's den…"

Marguerite and Deputy Finnegan, recovering from their previous shock, started to work urgently to free themselves. The circumstances were far from idyllic. Even if they managed to come out of the room, the house and the surroundings were foreign… And honestly, they couldn't count on any quick help…  
"What should we do now?" Marguerite asked as she helped the deputy to stand again.  
"We have to open the lock. I think we're in the cellar; maybe he won't hear it."  
"It's possible. The walls are damp and it's cooler here."  
"Good observer, Miss Krux."  
"Only a born survivor."  
"Give me a hairpin." The deputy held out her hand and Marguerie's eyes shined with hope. The girl did her best to tame the simple- but -tricky lock, and the next few moments were spent in agonizing silence till the nice little mechanical click finally came..  
"Freedom!" Miss Krux breathed, but still with concern in her eyes.

Chapter 29

Detective Redgrave desperately started at the door in front of him. He almost willed it to open. Every sense worked sharper, every nerve concentrated on the next moments, until he heard the steps and the door opened at last.  
It was not the time of a nice chat, that was over for ages. The goal was clear and the instruments approved. The moment the door opened for a bit, Richard kicked it in, momentarily surprising the man on the other side. He used it to give him a well aimed punch on his chin, and the enemy was on the floor.

"Redgrave… you're crazy…" The man lying on the floor grunted watching the detective above him.

"I got you Avery, you bastard..." Richard growled not lessening his angry stare.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Avery Burton continued a little easier, while he started to get himself up. "I hope you have a search warrant, or any kind of proof…"

"The funny smile that came to his face, made Richard fell right to hit him again, but before he could listen to his brutal self, one of the doors opened. Marguerite and Finnegan opened it fearfully, not knowing what will await for them after they rescued themselves from their private prison in the cellar. This little movement distracted the detective, and Avery kicking his foots out get up and run."

Redgrave was right in his footprints as soon as he could, so he only barked a short order at the shaking Marguerite Krux and the beaten Finnegan.

"Use the radio to call reinforcement!" He shouted while he ran away, passing his belt radio to Finnegan. She seemed bruised but coherent.

The knowledge that both of them were alive gave him new energy to fight and win. The serial murderer, famous for his special brutality, ran straight into the nearest alleyway.  
In any other chase, it wouldn't have been an easy catch for Richard, but he was personally involved in this case, and that gave him more determination than a thousand policemen.

The moment he heard on the phone the result of the DNA test, the whole picture stood in its place, like a puzzle. He knew that someone had played with them, like a cat plays with a mouse and he was close, very close. He could guess an average small grey man from the administration, or something like that, but the immaculate cop, Avery … It was more than he could imagine. He had every opportunity and he used it well for his purpose.  
It made sense, explained why he had kidnapped Finnegan, and why he was always so near to Charlotte. Maybe that was what angered Richard the most. He thought of how close he felt to Charlotte, and of his dread that the killer would take her from him, just as he realized the extent of their mutual attraction.

Suddenly he heard a noise from the other side of the alley. He turned and shot. A cat jumped away. Nothing. He moved over, slowly, strongly gripping the SIG-Sauer P-229, his senses attuned to the slightest sound, the barest hint of movement that might betray his quarry.

Chapter 30

Holding his weapon safely in his strong grip, Richard went through the narrow alley slowly, that was only lit by a dying street lamp. Concentrating with his every nerve, he wasn't even bothered by the blood that left a stain on his forehead. There was only one thing, the goal to find his prey.  
"Where are you, Avery? You can only stand up to weak women, you rat?", he asked in a provocative tone.  
A dark form appeared to answer his question, stepping half into the light of the lamp.  
"That's why you're here? For those... cuties?" he laughed evilly. "Not even one worth a coin. It was an amusement to hear their painful cries, to see their struggling with their tears, to feel the hopelessness in their voices, when they begged me to stop. "  
"You're sick." Richard told him, with disgust.  
"But it can be that you didn't come because of them. Yes, yes, that little Charlotte..." Richard gripped his pistol more strongly, but his emotive eyes only inspired the murderer. "You have exceptionally good taste. But I saw her first. But don't you worry; we'll get on fine together." He smiled.  
"Give up!" The detective warned in a voice that bore no contradiction, and deep inside, wished him to do something that would permit him to shoot.  
"I'll enjoy the little one." He laughed at last, than swung his arm and shot.

No one would have thought that the normally calm Ned Malone can drive like a maniac. More than lightly exceeding the range of speed, he rushed the Toyota across the city and brought his passengers to their destination. In spite of that her thoughts were about Richard's safety, Charlotte Dunn couldn't stand to think about not only Ned's, but Veronica's and her own driving licences being cancelled.  
But the situation was complicated. Every minute was vital and no one could blame the nervous reporter, when, blitzing his tires, he stopped in front of Richard's car.  
All the three jumped out at one time and ran for the opened front door. Hardly did they neared it, when two familiar faces appeared. Marguerite tried to hold up the deputy, who definitely was in a very bad shape. The blonde girl had only enough energy to step and faint into Ned's arms from the tiredness and pain she felt.

"Everything happened in a minute. When we opened the door to the hallway, Avery realized that Richard's mind was elsewhere and Avery jumped on him. They ran away after a short fight."Marguerite stopped to breathe and continued. "The detective followed him."

But Marguerite wouldn't have been Marguerite if she didn't demand more information.

"What's happened? Where's Roxton? How did you find us?"

Veronica would have loved to answer every question, but Charlotte stopped her by asking a new question.

"Where's Richard?"

Her answer was given by a shooting noise. Everyone trembled, but for Charlotte, who ran without a second thought in the direction of the noise. Veronica didn't have a chance to hold her back, so she pulled out her service weapon and followed.  
The stressed girl ran obsessively. She didn't know what she 'd find, and felt terror at what she might find, but she wanted to find it, because the only thing that interested her was to find out, and find in one piece, the man who had finally found her!  
But what she saw nearly tore her heart apart. A form lay on the floor unmoving, with a pistol in his hand. Charlotte didn't need more than a second to recognize:..

"Richard!"

Chapter 31

" Richard! Richard!" Charlotte knelt next to the form lying on the ground, not bothering with Veronica, who followed her with weapon in hand. The girl started to sob when she noticed the bloody wound on the man's head. With shaking hand she touched him, hardly seeing anything behind her own tears. "Please, wake up! I beg you!"

The world, that unmerciful world, broke and broke Charlotte Dunn's heart with it. Everything stopped existing, because he didn't exist. The girl felt anger and bitterness against the cruel fate that as soon as it gave him to her, immediately took away the one she loved. Millions of wishes and what-ifs screamed in her head: If only it hadn't happened! If only they would have had more time! If only she told him how much she loved him! If only he would wake up! If only…If only…

"Please, wake up!"

"All right, if this is what the lady requests,…" came the salvaging voice. Richard opened his eyes and slowly sat up. With a tired smile, he reached out and cleared away Charlotte's fresh tears.

For a minute she was frozen. The whole thing was so dreamlike. She fell from the final despair to the highest happiness and she didn't know where the fine line between dreams and reality lay. Is it possible, that all of this happened? At last, she ended the doubtful silence with one deep admission.

„I love you."

And she kissed him. This kiss held everything. The happiness and the thankfulness, honesty, liberty. but most of all, love.

The moments of a long and teary kiss, were broken by Veronica's voice.

"Hey, Romeo! As I see, Jago is over."

And she was right. The blond woman nudged the body that laid at her feet, still holding the pistol in hand. Cautiously she sat on her heels to examine his pulse.

"t's over .

The ambulances shortly later arrived at the scene with the other police forces. Veronica and Ned stayed at the crime scene, but in spite of his resistance, Richard soon found himself in an ambulance halfway to the hospital with Charlotte stubbornly holding his hand.

Veronica started to do her job. Seemingly, it was no trouble. She found two bullets in the street. One, that Richard had fired at the cat, and one that had grazed his head. It had only escaped killing him by a hair's breadth, while the detective's last shot proved fatal to his opponent..  
Richard had shot straight to the heart. The place that was a fountain of every problem, of violence and terror, the place where the red lipstick murderer was born. And the place where Richard and Charlotte were born, their love hopefully balancing the demented acts that had emanated from the heart of Avery Burton.

Chapter 32

She was only a fewsteps away from the door, when a low but characteristic voice called her name.

"Marguerite"

She turned and only for a moment nearly let the loose emotions that the sight provoked. After so many long, sleepness nights, Agent Roxton's pale face showed some sign of life. Marguerite never thought that she would miss the aggrivating, Ceshire-cat grin. But she did, whenever she looked at him lying between machines and tubes in the sterile atmosphere of the hospital room.  
If it wasn't for Ned, she could never go home to sleep now and then. She always wondered whether she'd get another opportuniy to speak to him, and tell him what she wanted to say:

"Thank you."

For a moment, he looked uncomprehendingly.

"Execuse me?"

It was the first time she couldn't rule her words,and it surprised her. The explanation become rough, too.

"Thank you for what you did that night."

"Oh!" He drew up his eyebrows and started to sit up, but pain shot through him, making him drop back to his pillows . Miss Krux was at his side in a minute to help him. "I'm glad, that my sacrifice wasn't useless." He answered after they both sat down comfortably.

"To tell the truth, my knight in shining armour, unfortunately the murderer didn't slip on your blood and break his neck. But he was captured in the end." The woman answered lightly with the sarcasm that was so familiar from her.

"I didn't mean it. It was worth it because I can have you looking after me." Roxton wanted her toknow that he was impressed with her.

To the unexpected sentence, the dark haired beauty couln't reply, because the door opened and a team of people came in.

"Veronica please, take this bouquet from me. It feels so unnatural in my hand," Ned complained as he opened the door.

"You should bring me flowers more often. It would help your dexterity a lot." The blonde paraded in like a triumphant Amazon general.

"I see we're not the first to come" Deputy Finnegan stated as she limped in slowly. A nod of her head thanked Malone for holding the door for her.  
With the manner of a substitute father, Professor Challenger helped in the girl, and seated her in a comfortable chair.  
"Slowly, my dear. Don't strain yourself," he cautioned Deputy Finnegan.

"Good morning, John!" Charlotte stepped in with a wide smile on her face. "I's so good to see you awake again!" She gave him a light kiss on his cheek.

"Hey, what's going on here?!" Richard appeared. "I turn my back only for a moment and some FBI Agent steals my girlfriend." He pulled Charlotte into his arms with mocking jealousy and kissed her shortly. "Okay, this time I'll forgive it, but only now."

This little comedy was rewarded with smiles and soon Special Agent Roxton was introduced to all the details of the muderer's apprehension.

"I'm so curious…what happened to Sheriff Tribune?," he asked.

"Your wish is my command." Ned jumped up and turned on the television.

On the screen a press conference was seen, where the sheriff was asked questions between constant flashes of cameras. The occupants of the hospital room could hardly contain their laughs. But they burst out in especially loud laughter when the last sentence came out of Tribune's lips:

"That's how, under my supervision, the red lipstick murderer was captured!."

The End


End file.
